


That time nobody got attached to anyone. Nope.

by Shirohime



Series: Backpack angels [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, I mean, Tiny angels, and dean is more important than the government, but Dean does, government doesnt like them, real tiny, theyre tiny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 06:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14732069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirohime/pseuds/Shirohime
Summary: Tiny Angels. Give me more Tiny Angels.





	That time nobody got attached to anyone. Nope.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by some weird ass thoughts.  
> We all know Cas never moved from his spot when he had ran out of minutes, right?  
> So what does he do whenever Dean leaves? He doesn't do important angel shit as Dean might think. Oh noes.

_|They shall be treated like the abnormalities they are. If you believe you may have encountered a Seraph don't hesitate to call AGS to prevent harm. Seraphs cause a serious threat to humanity and are to be avoided at all cost; remember that they are far more powerful than any human could ever possibly fathom. Taming them is an impossibility, any advertizing for a "tamed" Seraph is to be taken with caution and will in all cases be a fraud. Please contribute to the preservance of our own species and help locate and annihilate any and all Seraphs.|_

 

It had been a long hunt. Dean did not even know where to begin for his report back to the AGS - the Angel Guarding Services. First of, he really didn't want to deal with his obnoxious boss Zachariah, secondly, he had to write the report fast and still avoid possible mistakes, since Sam and his wife Jessica were awaiting him for Christmas vacation at their place.

He groaned, slamming his head onto the steering wheel of his beloved Impala before muttering an apology to her. It wasn't her fault he had chosen this double-sided life.

Raised in a family of hunters, it had never even be an option not to follow into his father's footsteps and chase down the threat that were Seraphs.

The angelic species had descended upon earth in the early 17th century, bringing death and torture onto those who encountered them. In more than one tale they were the reason for lethal epidemies and terror attacks, everything tragic really.

It had taken humanity over two hundred years to finally get the problem under control, learning and adapting to the Seraph's characteristics and biology.

In lore they were described as 15 feet tall beasts with more than one head, mostly in the shape of animals. They had wings, two huge pairs expanding from their backs with feathers sharper than any diamond or titanium blade could ever be. In lore they were not capable of speech, much less any other form of communication. The sounds they did make were said to shatter human eardrums, melt their brains into undistinguishable mush.

Dean had been raised with such lore, such horror stories and had never been given a reason to doubt their sayings. That was until he turned old enough to try to apply logic to all the statements heard in media and newspapers.

If they were 15 feet of height, why had nobody seen a Seraph in nearly a hundred years now?

If they were only capable of screeching, lethal sounds, how were there reports of communication between hunters and Seraphs?

If they were so powerful, why had Dean never in his life seen even a hint of one?

That was when his perception of his job had changed and ultimately it had all changed when he had found Castiel - quite literally.

He had been rushing home through the rain, grumbling about the cold droplets ruining his leather jacket, when he had accidentally stepped upon...something.

 _It_ had wailed and screamed heartbreakingly in a high pitched voice, making Dean curse loudly and nearly jump up into the clouds.

On the sidewalk, barely concealed under a drenched piece of cardboard was.... a tiny human?

Dean had blinked speechlessly, crowding down as his eyes squinted to make out details in the foggy weather.

It seemed he had stepped on the creatures black appendage, now hanging limply and twisted on the hard concrete.

The tiny creature stared at Dean with comically wide eyes the shade of sapphire, shivering from both the cold and fear. Another black appendage was carefully tucked under the cardboard piece, holding it in place, though the tiny limb was trembling with the effort to hold it up all on its own.

They were wings, Dean realized, mouth agape in utter shock and disbelief. Just what _was_ the tiny thing?

Needless to say, he had taken the little guy home, learned his name and that he was apparently one of the last Seraph; the oh so deadly species everyone was warned about.

But really, there was nothing scary about Castiel. He looked just like a drowned kitten that was reluctant to let Dean take away his cardboard. Alongside an oversized dishcloth working as a kind of toga, Castiel owned nothing.

Dean learned that Seraphs were cast down to earth to educate humanity, to aid them, but nobody had given them a warning as to how volatile humans were when faced with something they didn't (and couldn't) grasp. He learned that their true forms were far bigger than 15 feet, yet they had the ability to morph into other states of existence with the constance of at least one pair of wings showing. Most of those who survived the first early decades had taken up living as some sort of house elves, dyeing and even breaking their own wings to pass as another supernatural being and serving humanity with the tasks they could perform.

All that, Dean had learned in the span of an evening, bandaging Castiel's broken wing and deciding to care for the little guy as long as he would let him.

There was nothing dangerous about Castiel, who liked the tiny trenchcoat outfit Dean had sewn him (hush, being a single hunter got him a lot of free time) and had taken to sitting on the human's shoulder almost constantly. The angel that liked cheeseburgers, ketchup and french fries as much as he liked animals of any kind. The angel that got itself stuck and sick on the ceiling fan accidentally one time.

There was nothing dangerous about Castiel. Until there was.

Because despite his size, Castiel had powers far from human imagination. No supernatural being Dean had ever encountered had even possessed half the destruction and blessing that the Seraph could bring.

He called it his "grace". Much like human energy it was his existence; without grace he would no longer be either. And Castiel had had lots of explaining to do after he smote a demon with a single digit to their forehead and shocked Dean so much he hadn't been able to stop shaking for a whole day.

But things worked out. Somehow. Castiel never ever hurt a human unless absolutely necessary, he only ever intervened when Dean was in life threatening situations and life turned into some form of weird domestic bliss again.

It wasnt that Dean wanted anything sexual with Cas, no, that was a step to far for him. The guy was barely the size of his palm, for goodness sake!

But they became best buddies over the years and with Cas being able to go invisible if he had enough grace, nobody ever found out.

But then Seraphs started showing up all over the planet, "newbies" Cas called them when they were alone, none of them had been in the first wave. The second wave of Seraph was far more hostile and aggressive than the first, making Cas frown and feel ashamed of his own species.

"They act like cavemen", he'd say, wings giving an agitated flutter.

Dean got under contract with AGS, hunting rogue angels and secretly sending the harmless ones to rehabilitation clinics set up by rebels, some of which had their own little "Seraph appendage".

Like Benny who had been hit by lightning and fallen from the sky, right into the champagne glass of a stoic but righteous man named Cain. Or Anna, who had attached herself to a lanky hunter by the name of Garth who, if Dean had any say in it, purely survived on dumb luck and naivity.

So, Dean worked for both the state and the rebels, helping out where he could, always with his trusty little angel on the shoulder.

Then everything took a turn for the worse when the Archangels started to show up.

Michael and Lucifer, Raphael and Gabriel, turned the sky into ash and rotten corpses, humans fell like flies each day, caught in the crossfire between Michael and Lucifer.

Raphael, after some time, had started siding with humans, healing those who were wounded and guiding lost souls to heaven.

Gabriel had disappeared after failing to break up the fight between his elder brothers, shaking the earth with his sorrow.

And appearing on Sam's porch.

Yes. Apparently Archangels did something called imprinting.

They glued themselves to the first soul they found worthy of their attention until said soul was brought to heaven.

So now Sam and Dean both had an angel to help them, times got busier and on one rainy (how ironic) day it happened;

Dean _forgot_ to bring Cas along, leaving the appartment alone and in a hurry.

Since he had no actual reason to run back and leave work, Dean had set to make it through the day with his jaw tight and a slight twitch in his eye. Yes, he'd never admit it but he greatly missed the presence of the little guy.

When he told Gabriel, begrudgingly so, the Archangel was outraged and worried, flittering across the office and pulling at Dean's hair to get him to leave and "Go check on Cassie, goddamnit!"

The hunter was beyond pissed when he finally got home but the sight of _his_ little angel basically jumping in his face, let all the anger melt into worry.

"Hey, Cas, I am so incredibly sorry, it won't happen again, promise, I'll make you a tiny door or something-", he babbled hastily, worry running thick past his lips and making tears form in his eyes (another thing he would never admit).

"Dean."

Cas' words were all gravely and oh lord almighty, Dean had missed his voice.

"Yeah. 'm here now, buddy."

"Dean, do not leave me alone again, please. The neighbour's cat is plotting to murder me."

Dean's laugh warmed him from the inside out, dancing through time and space like a forgotten melody.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated.  
> I know my thoughts are weird but maybe someone else will enjoy this piece of words.


End file.
